Xtreme Measures
by BrandSpankingNew
Summary: Seth wants it. Seth takes it. Seth gets caught. What are Kirsten and Sandy to do since grounding doesn't dissuade him? Warning: This is a BrandSpankingNew fic. Contains spanking and/or talk of spanking.


Seth held the comic book reverently in both hands. He'd been wanting this forever! Really. All 12 years he'd been on this planet, he'd wanted this comic. X-Men 2099, #1! Okay, not all twelve years, because the comic wasn't that old, but close enough. Close enough. And right now, it was right in front of him. In his hands! He could have it.

Except...well, he knew that his mom wouldn't want to buy him another comic. Why would she? She always complained about them, that he should "read a real book" as if Wolverine and Cyclops couldn't possibly be worth his time. Ha! What did she know?

Sorrowfully, he stared down at it. It would complete the series. He already had a place prepared for it in his "filing system," a bank box filled with plastic sheets and hanging files. He couldn't leave it here...

He looked around, a storm brewing in his mind. The clerk was reading a comic of his own, and paying absolutely no attention to Seth, who was half-hidden behind a rack of comics. And the other occupants of the store were on the other side, two teenagers arguing about Aqua-Man. Could he get away with it? He probably could...

Quick as a flash, Seth slid the comic book between his waistband and his stomach. He smoothed his shirt, and checked around. No one else in the store had moved. He started towards the door.

He had his hand on the door handle when he felt someone grab his shoulder. He froze.

"What do you think you're doing, kid?"

Seth swallowed. It was the pimple faced cashier. He turned to face the teen who held his shoulder, and blinked at him a couple times, feeling his face drain. "Uh..." Seth mumbled.

"You take that comic book?" Pimple-face asked. His voice squeaked slightly.

Seth shook his head violently. "No!"

That was his undoing, because the movements of his head caused the comic to come loose of its confinement in his waistband, and slide down his leg, and out of his shorts. The clerk reached down and grabbed the comic. "Oh yeah?" he said.

Seth gulped.

* * *

His mother's grip on his wrist was like steel. "Thank you so much for letting us settle this here," she said to the pimply clerk. "I promise you, this won't happen again."

The clerk shrugged. "Yeah, sure," he said. "No problem." He picked up the comic he'd been reading before, and buried his head in it. Seth heard his mother sigh.

"You are in so much trouble, mister," Mom said.

Seth didn't know what to say. He swallowed. "Guess I'm grounded, huh?" he asked glumly.

His mother pulled him out the door and towards their car. "I don't know, Seth. This is a big problem. I'm going to have to talk it over with your father."

Seth slumped a little more. His dad was going to be so furious.

They didn't speak the whole way home. Seth's stomach was churning by the time they pulled up to the door. Why had he thought this would be a good idea, exactly? He couldn't remember.

He started into the kitchen, but his mother stopped him. "Room. Now!"

He dropped his head to his chest. Not just grounded to the house, but to his room? It was so unfair...it wasn't like he'd actually stolen it. It hadn't made it out of the store! What a way to start off the summer.

Seth went upstairs for a conference with Captain Oats.

* * *

Sandy shut the door. "Honey, I'm home!" he called playfully into the foyer.

A sigh from his wife answered him. "Hi, Sandy," he heard Kirsten's voice float in from the kitchen. "Can you come in here?"

Sandy grimaced. She did not sound happy. Cautiously, he made his way into the kitchen.

Kirsten was sitting at a stool at the counter, playing with her wedding ring. From the looks of things, she'd nearly worn it out. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked, walking towards her.

"Sit down, Sandy," she said, still worrying the ring. "We've got a problem. With Seth."

Sandy sat immediately. Her tone was frightening. "What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

He watched Kirsten's shoulders move as she sighed. "Oh, Sandy..."

"Is he all right? Is he hurt?" Sandy asked. He could feel his anxiety rising.

"No, he's not hurt. But ..." Kirsten made a face. "He stole a comic book today. From ComixWorld."

The words hit Sandy in the chest. He inhaled sharply.

"Seth. Our son. Stole? Stole a comic book?" He couldn't believe it.

Kirsten nodded slowly. "I couldn't believe it, Sandy."

Sandy ran his hand through his hair, thinking. "He knows better than that. He knows—he knows what can happen to thieves! For God's sake, I'm a DA! Doesn't he _listen_?" Sandy thumped the counter with his fist.

Kirsten put her hand over Sandy's, intertwining their fingers. "What are we going to do, Sandy? Right after I pulled him out of the store, he says, "Guess I'm grounded." We're a one-trick pony, and he's got us figured out. It obviously doesn't bother him, if he was willing to risk it for a comic book. It's not enough." She sounded despondent.

Sandy scowled. "Well, what else are we supposed to do, honey? It's not like we have a lot of options. Ma grounded me when I was a kid..."

"Which worked, because you had friends, Sandy. Seth doesn't _care_ if he never leaves the house. And apparently, losing his stuff doesn't bother him either."

"Which leaves what?" he asked.

He could see that Kirsten was thinking. She licked her lower lip and sighed. "My dad would have spanked me..." she said hesitantly. "I mean, he actually did. I was five and stole a little toy...and when Daddy found out, I got a spanking." Her eyes met Sandy's, looking cautious.

"Honey, you were five," Sandy said. "Not twelve. I thought we'd agreed that he was too old?" Seth had been spanked a few times in his early childhood, but Kirsten had been adamant that six was old enough to reason with a kid, and they'd stopped.

"I know," she said. "I know. But Sandy, I can't think of anything else to do. He _stole_ something! And he is old enough to know better, old enough to reason himself out of something like that, and he did it anyway. It wasn't like this was a mistake; he did it on purpose!"

Sandy heaved a big sigh. Kirsten was right; he'd done it on purpose. Obviously the kid wasn't afraid of being grounded. They needed something heavier in their arsenal. "You're right," he said.

Kirsten stopped. "I'm right?" she said, cocking her head.

Somberly, Sandy nodded his head. "I don't have any other ideas, and you're right."

Kirsten squeezed his hand. "So...should I do it, or should you?"

Sandy only had to think for a minute. "Me," he said reluctantly. "He's 12. Too close to puberty to be spanked by his mother."

He could see that Kirsten saw the wisdom in that as she slowly nodded. "He's in his room," she said softly. Sandy stood up, and felt Kirsten's hand touch his back before he stepped away.

* * *

Seth lay on his back on his bed, holding Captain Oats on his chest.

"I really screwed up, didn't I, Oats?" he said. Oats looked back at him with accusing black eyes. "I know. It was really bad. A really bad idea."

He ran a finger down Oat's mane. "And now Mom and Dad are talking about it...what's to talk about? I mean, I'm going to be grounded, aren't I? It's not like they're going to send me to jail or something."

Oats continued watching Seth, unblinking.

"Would they? I mean...oh God. Dad knows judges and stuff. What if they're going to send me to jail? To eat bread and water and be locked in the dark, cold dungeon? It happens, you know."

Now Oats seemed to be more sympathetic, even perhaps worried about Seth. "Oh, Oats," Seth said, pressing his nose against the horse's. "I'm so stupid!"

A knock on the door interrupted Seth's conversation. "Seth?"

"Come in," Sandy heard Seth call gloomily.

He stepped inside his son's room, shut the door, and looked at the boy sitting on the edge of his bed. Captain Oats was clutched in his hands, and Seth was looking at his shoes. He'd been doing some thinking, at least.

"You want to tell me what happened today at ComixWorld?" Sandy asked, standing in front of Seth. He kept his voice low, but serious.

Seth shrugged, rubbing a thumb over Captain Oat's back. "I stole a comic," he mumbled.

Sandy nodded. "Why?" he asked.

Sandy's only answer was a shrug.

"That's not good enough, Seth. Tell me why." Sandy's raised his voice slightly.

Seth didn't know what to say. Why had he done it? He'd wanted the comic. But Dad wasn't going to be happy with that answer. He slumped down farther.

"Seth," his father warned. Seth sighed.

"I wanted it," he mumbled.

His father grabbed his chin. "You wanted it? So you just _took_ it? Since when is that the way you get what you want?" His father's eyes bored into his own. "Do you know what can happen to you when you just take what you want without paying for it? A lot of the kids I see as a DA are in front of me because they just took what they wanted. Is that where you want to end up?"

Seth shook his head as much as his father's grip would allow. "No! No, Dad, please. Please don't send me to jail! I know I shouldn't have tried to steal it!" He was panicking. He really was going to end up in jail. His mind conjured pictures of the cell, cold and dungeon-y. "Please, Dad!"

Sandy could see his son's fear. He let go of Seth's chin. "You can't just break the law, son," he said. "Stealing is against the law."

"I know. I'm sorry. Please, Dad, don't put me in jail!"

Sandy took pity on Seth. "I'm not going to put you in jail, Seth. But listen to me."

Seth looked up at him, white-faced. Sandy continued.

"If you knew stealing was wrong, then you shouldn't have done it. So why would you do it?"

Some color was coming back to the boy's face, but he didn't say anything.

"Did you figure it was worth it, to take what you wanted, because no one would know?" Sandy asked.

Another shrug was Sandy's only answer. Sandy was getting irritated with all this shrugging.

"Talk to me, Seth. God knows you can talk," he said.

But Seth didn't know what to say. He couldn't find the words to explain why he'd done it. Had he even had a reason? He couldn't seem to remember one.

His dad sighed. "Alright then. If you don't want to explain, then we might as well get on with it." Dad beckoned a finger at him. "Stand up."

Seth didn't understand, but he stood. His father took Captain Oats from his hands, and set him on the bedside table. "What are you doing?" Seth asked.

He watched as his father sat down on the edge of his bed. There was an oddly determined look on his face. "Come here," he said. Seth took a step forward. His father took hold of his arm.

Their eyes met. "I'm going to spank you, Seth," he said.

Seth wrinkled his brow. "What?" he said.

Sandy sighed. "I'm going to spank you," he repeated more slowly. "For stealing that comic."

He saw when his words were digested. "Spank me?" Seth echoed, blinking rapidly a couple of times. "Like...like, 'spank me,' spank me?" His voice rose into another octave.

Sandy nodded. "Yes," he said.

"But-" Seth said.

"No. You're not about to talk your way out of this. Your mother and I decided."

Seth's voice rose again. "Decided?" he squeaked. "I...You can't."

Sandy pushed back the anger he felt when Seth said that. "Yes, I can. And I will. Now, come here. Over my knees." He gave Seth's arm a little tug.

Seth's heart was beating fast. This couldn't be happening. His father didn't spank. Dad hadn't spanked him since he was, like, five! "No," he said, pulling back.

Dad's grip on his arm tightened. "Seth," he warned.

Seth shook his head. Fear and confusion were making him jittery. "No.." he said, trying to pull away again.

The tug felt like flying. He didn't even realize that his father was yanking him over his knees until he was already situated there. The carpet under him seemed to blur. "Dad?" he whispered.

Sandy could hear Seth's confused fright. He paused, his hand firmly on Seth's back.

"Do you understand why I'm spanking you?" he asked. After a pause, his son nodded.

"Do you really think that you don't deserve it?"

Sandy felt Seth fall limp as his resistance faded away. Slowly, the boy shook his head. "No," he said softly, sounding guilty.

"Alright, then," Sandy said. He looked down at his son...and raised his hand.

The first couple smacks weren't very hard, but then Sandy remembered that Seth was older now, and he'd have to spank harder. He gave him a hard swat. Seth jerked.

Like that. He laid down another, and another, speeding up the delivery. Seth cried, "Ouch!"

At first, he thought it wouldn't be that bad, because it barely even stung. And then, suddenly, it _really_ stung.

Seth didn't want to act like a baby, so he gritted his teeth. But Dad was strong! "Ow!" he yelped again. "Ow! Dad!" He could feel and hear as each loud smack connected with his rear like a red-hot poker.

SMACK! SMACK! Sandy's hand was starting to hurt. "I don't want you to ever even consider stealing something again, Seth. Do you hear me?" SMACK! SMACK!

"OW! Yeah, I—ouch!"

SMACK! "OW!" Seth cried, and then Sandy felt him start to shake. He was crying. "Dad, stop!" he begged. "That really—OWW!"

Sandy figured it was almost over, but he wanted to make sure Seth got the point. "Never again, Seth!" he said, still swatting hard.

"I know!" Seth cried.

"It's illegal. It's wrong. You could get in serious trouble!" Sandy laid down a few more.

"I'm s-sorry!" Seth stuttered. His nose was dripping, and the fire in his butt was making him start to kick his legs. "Daddy, stop!"

The 'Daddy' was what convinced him that he should stop. Seth hadn't called him 'Daddy' for years. "All right, son," he said, letting his sore hand rest on the back of his son's lower thigh. "It's done."

He could feel Seth shaking as he cried over his lap. "I'm sorry!" Seth whimpered. "I won't—I'll never-never ever—steal anything...I'm sorry!"

Sandy helped his son to his feet. "Okay, Seth," he said. The kid looked pitiful, tears and snot running down his face, and Sandy felt guilt hit him. Had he been too hard on Seth? Had this been a mistake?

Seth had never felt so bad in his life. And it wasn't just because his butt was burning like the hottest fires of hell; his dad looked so sad. Seth had made him that sad. "I'm sorry!" he repeated again, and flung himself at his father.

Sandy barely caught the pre-teen missile. A hug was about the last thing he'd expected after that scene. But after a moment, his mind caught up to the idea. "Shh. I know," he murmured into Seth's hair, his arms wrapped around his son's back.

"I promise!"

"I know, kiddo." He felt Seth's arms tighten around him.

He held his son until the boy's arms loosened and a loud yawn echoed in Sandy's ear. "You should go wash your face, kid," he said, looking at Seth's teary visage. Seth nodded, and went out to the bathroom.

Seth was surprised that his father was still in his room when he returned. "Uh...Dad?" he asked.

Dad gestured at his bed. "Lay down," he told him. "I heard that yawn. You need to get some sleep."

Seth shook his head. "I'm not tired," he protested, but his body was already kicking off shoes.

"Uh huh," his father said dryly. "Come on."

Seth sat down and yelped. "Ouch!" he said, flipping onto his hip. He felt his face flush, but Dad pretended he hadn't noticed. He settled into a more comfortable position on his stomach.

Sandy pulled the covers over Seth, and leaned down to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Goodnight, Seth," he said softly. He rubbed his son's hair.

"Dad, not the Jew-fro..." Seth whined. Sandy smiled. He turned off the lights as he left Seth's room.

Despite his aching tookus, Seth was asleep within five minutes.

* * *

"So?" Kirsten said, her eyes on Sandy as he descended the stairs. Her face was pinched and nervous.

Sandy smiled at her. "It's okay."

She didn't look convinced. Sandy walked over and put his arms around his wife. "I don't think we'll have to pull out that particular punishment again, honey."

"Is he going to hate us now, Sandy?" Kirsten asked plaintively. "I can't believe-"

Sandy shook his head. "No, he's not going to hate us. He doesn't even hate us right now." He thought of how Seth had jumped into his arms, crying. "He's fine, Kirsten."

"I know," she said, sounding unconvinced. "But..."

Sandy kissed his wife. "Go see for yourself," he said.

Kirsten climbed the stairs, and listened outside Seth's door. She didn't hear anything. Softly, she pushed the door open and walked into the room.

From the light in the hallway she could see that Seth was fast asleep, lying on his stomach with one hand clasped around Captain Oat's torso. Soft breathing was the only sound. Kirsten smiled. "Oh, Seth," she whispered.

Sandy was right. Everything was fine. She gave her son a light kiss, and left the room, closing the door behind her.


End file.
